Blog Archives
Suspension of Disbelief
Auberon Manor follows a rich paranormal skeptic who is drawn into the mystery of Auberon Manor, an estate with a long, dark reputation, where he discovers something more frightening than a ghost. What was the inspiration for the setup of your story?
Many people will tell you they do not subscribe to the notion that ghosts or other supernatural entities are real. If you were to drop one of these non-believers into an old, isolated, creepy house, I’m willing to wager they’d feel some level of anxiety. Introduce a few odd, not easily explained noises, and even the fiercest skeptic might be tested. What interested me the most in writing this book was the characters’ reaction to discovering a supernatural entity. That’s hardly an everyday occurrence, and I’m sure it would test most people to their limit. I created a group of characters and threw them into that frightening scenario to see what they would do. I admit, I would have fled on day one. Thankfully, my characters are far braver than I would have been. Suspension of disbelief.
Your novel features some very interesting characters with flaws, but who are still likable. How do you go about creating characters for your story?
My preference is for strong, capable characters. The kind of people you can count on when the going gets tough, who run towards a problem instead of away from it. Having said that, not every person is skilled, capable of courage when called upon, nor are they dependable when you’re forced to rely on them. I’m fascinated by human behaviour in all of its forms. Too often, a protagonist has to go out of his or her way to navigate around another person’s shortcomings to reach a goal. That’s life. That’s real. No story proceeds in a flawless straight line. Humans are sometimes bumps in the road that need to be navigated. I want the reader to share that frustration.
What intrigues you about the horror and paranormal genres that led you to write this book?
This genre has no limits. If you can imagine it, you can put it on the page and not be criticized for breaking the rules of physics or angering a reader for forcing them to suspend their disbelief. They want to suspend their belief for a story like this. The author and the readers are all on the same page.
What is the next book that you are working on, and when can your fans expect it to be out?
In addition to writing in this genre, I also write action-adventure, legal thrillers, and tech thrillers. My next book is titled ‘Legacy of a Silent Man.’ This is an action book. Work is underway, and the publication is expected in the first quarter of 2026.
Author Website
For the curious and adventurous, the stories read on the website inspire them to make the journey to Pennsylvania and see the manor for themselves. Over time, the stories about the house grow darker with reports of visitors suffering injuries. When an amateur group of investigators conducts a scientific examination of the house, disaster strikes. Members of the investigative team suffer broken arms, a broken rib, and a near-fatal concussion. This compels the owner to prohibit any further visits.
When the story of the Auberon haunting reaches a bored and wealthy young man named Dane Ledger, he’s encouraged by a friend to take a ghost-hunting road trip. To Dane, who doesn’t believe in ghosts, it presents an opportunity to debunk the ridiculous notion that this house, or any house, is haunted. He and his friend arrive at the manor to discover recently erected fencing and a guard who refuses them entry. All of this security makes Dane and his friend even more curious about the house. They approach the homeowner for permission to inspect the property, but are firmly denied. After money is exchanged and Dane agrees to assemble a team of professional paranormal investigators to inspect, identify, and exterminate the entity from the manor, permission is finally granted.
With the team assembled, they enter Auberon Manor and discover its frightening occupant. Terrified by what they’ve discovered, and too frightened to go back into the house, they struggle to find a way forward. Letting the entity remain in the home is not an acceptable option, as it would imperil every future visitor. They don’t know what they’re battling, but it’s not a ghost. It’s something much worse.
Sick
Sick is a deeply unsettling psychological horror novel that follows the toxic, codependent relationship between Susan and her chronically ill husband, John. What begins as a tale of dutiful care gradually descends into something far more sinister. The book explores themes of love, martyrdom, manipulation, and the blurry line between devotion and delusion. At the center is a marriage teetering on the edge of madness, where illness, real or imagined, becomes both the glue and the weapon that binds them.
It wasn’t just the disturbing imagery or the suffocating atmosphere, it was how intimate it all felt. I was drawn in by the clean, evocative prose and the slow, relentless build-up of dread. Author Christa Wojciechowski doesn’t rely on cheap scares. Instead, she weaponizes empathy, using Susan’s exhaustion and desperation like a knife twisting in your gut. Anyone who’s ever been trapped in a one-sided relationship or felt obligated to care for someone while losing themselves will feel that sting.
John is infuriating. He is charming, pathetic, childlike, and monstrous all at once. I found myself swaying between pity and revulsion. And Susan is no angel either. Her love feels noble one minute and complicit the next. Wojciechowski manages to make the reader complicit, too. I kept asking myself why I felt sorry for someone who was clearly manipulating the woman who loved him. But then I’d see his suffering again, and it would all blur. That’s the genius of this book. It messes with your moral compass.
There’s a smell to this book. Not literally, of course, but in the way Wojciechowski describes bodies, fluids, wounds, and rooms filled with neglect. And beneath it all, I could feel this aching, awful love. The writing doesn’t scream. It whispers. And that’s so much worse. It made me uncomfortable, not with violence or gore, but with how honest it was about how far people will go to feel needed.
There were times when I wanted to yell at Susan to run. Other times, I wanted to wrap her in a blanket and tell her it was okay to stop giving so much of herself. I think that’s why the story is so effective, it holds a mirror up to all the ways we lose ourselves in caring for others. The manipulation in this book is terrifying, not because it’s extreme, but because it’s familiar.
If you want a slow-burn, character-driven descent into psychological horror that feels both intimate and raw, Sick is a must-read. It’s perfect for readers who enjoy books like Gone Girl or The Shining, but crave something smaller in scale and more emotionally claustrophobic. It’s not just horror. It’s heartbreak in disguise. I’d recommend it to anyone interested in the darker sides of love, mental illness, and the twisted things we do in the name of care.
Pages: 282 | ASIN: B0FL5RTYQ9
The Knight at the Top of the Stairs
The Knight at the Top of the Stairs is an unsettling and emotionally resonant piece of psychological horror masquerading as a classic coming-of-age story. Set against the turbulent backdrop of 1968, the novel centers on nine-year-old David, a boy whose world, already fractured by historical tragedy, becomes increasingly governed by mythic struggle. His childhood home in Pine Hill, Massachusetts, becomes a metaphysical battleground, haunted by the rigid, silent vigilance of the ‘Knight at the Top of the Stairs’ and actively threatened by the ‘Buzzing Man,’ a creature of sickening, honey-sweet temptation that seeks to corrupt loyalty and exploit fear, particularly through David’s older brother, Steven. The narrative intricately weaves real-world chaos with deep-rooted occult evil, forcing David to discard the safe, simple rules of childhood for the complex, brutal code of knighthood, compelling him toward a final confrontation where he must determine the price of protecting the helpless.
My strongest emotional response stems from the author’s ability to juxtapose the cosmic horror with such tangible, domestic fear. The novel’s central theme, that historical trauma and moral failure do not fade but become inherited burdens, is articulated through the question, “Will you stand, or will you kneel?” It is a choice that hangs over every character, particularly David, whose journey from naive fear to resolute courage is genuinely moving. The inclusion of real-life upheavals, such as the distant, televised horrors of the Vietnam War and national assassinations, anchors the internal, supernatural dread, suggesting that the true source of evil is not the entity in the cellar, but the willingness of men to be whispered into betrayal. I felt a palpable sense of dread build throughout the middle chapters, not just because of the encroaching monster, but because of the agonizing realization that David’s own family history is intrinsically bound to this ancient conflict, leaving me utterly immersed in the moral weight of his inheritance.
The craftsmanship of the writing itself is exceptional. The prose possesses a rare lyrical intensity that elevates the narrative beyond typical genre fare. Author Brett Bacon employs an effective rhythm, utilizing both sharply concise sentences and sweeping, descriptive passages to maintain an almost unbearable tension. The voices of the children are rendered with startling clarity. David’s attempts to form new “rules” to govern the terrifying unknown, Kevin’s wide-eyed innocence and subsequent psychic sensitivity, and Steven’s rapid, chilling descent into malevolence, all felt tragically real. I found myself sympathetic to David’s father, whose own buried wartime experiences mirror the ancient knight’s legacy, adding layers of sorrow to the final, necessary fight. It is a text that demands, and rewards, careful reading.
The Knight at the Top of the Stairs is a dark and philosophical powerhouse that successfully merges the psychological depth of a domestic drama with the existential threat of epic fantasy. I highly recommend it to readers who appreciate character-driven horror that focuses less on jump scares and more on the slow, corrosive influence of evil, particularly fans of Stephen King’s early, atmospheric works (like It) or those who enjoy stories about inherited guilt and the cost of moral vigilance.
Pages: 225 | ASIN : B0FVP5KP5L
The Dreaming at the Drowned Town
The Dreaming at the Drowned Town is a wild ride of a story told through the diary of Enrique Castaño, a Filipino translator in 1924 who is haunted by some truly horrific nightmares. He gets hired to guide his American journalist boss, Mr. Thomas, and his new wife, Lita, to a mysterious island that just popped up from the bottom of the sea. They assemble a small, tense group to go with them, and things go wrong. People start dying, reality blurs, and Enrique’s awful dreams seem to be bleeding into the real world, leaving him and the reader trying to figure out what’s real and what’s just in his head.
The writing just floors you. The choice to use Enrique’s diary was a great decision. Readers are stuck right inside this guy’s head, and it is not a nice place to be. I felt his paranoia. The Brothers K absolutely nail the atmosphere. It’s sticky. It’s hot. You can smell the sulfur from the island and the rot from Enrique’s dreams. The way his nightmares just bleed into the story, you start to question everything. I found myself re-reading parts, thinking, “Wait, did that actually happen, or did he just dream it?” It’s a total head-trip. I loved feeling so completely unmoored.
It’s not just a simple ghost story. It’s a deep dive into the messy, complicated world of the American-occupied Philippines. You have the old revolutionary boatman. You have the American boss who thinks he’s bringing enlightenment. You have the corrupt local constable. All these people are just trapped on this island, and their real-world drama gets swallowed by this huge, ancient, creepy-crawly horror. The betrayals just keep stacking up. I thought I knew what was happening, then the story just pulls the rug out. Then it pulls another rug out. Lita’s character, in particular, is just a masterpiece of twists. I honestly didn’t know who to root for by the end. It really makes you think.
I was completely hooked. My heart was pounding. I felt genuinely unsettled when I put it down. This is not some light, breezy read. This is a book that demands your full attention, and it will haunt you for a while after you finish. It’s a puzzle. It’s a nightmare. It’s brilliant. If you like your horror smart, historical, and deeply weird, you have to pick this up.
Pages: 167 | ASIN: B0FP1RDK46
Bloodless We Go Buried: An Earth Mother Horror
Bloodless We Go Buried unfolds as an Earth Mother horror story that blends myth, ancestral memory, and a feeling of something old waking beneath the everyday world. The book moves through dreamlike scenes where the natural world feels alive and watchful. Its language carries a poetic rhythm, and the Proto Celtic threading through the chapters adds a strange and ancient pulse. The story works like a long walk through dark woods where every shadow seems to breathe, and where the characters find themselves caught between fear, kinship, and something that feels like a summons from the deep past.
The voice of the book has this raw and intimate quality that made me feel like I had stepped into someone’s private ritual. The writing style is bold and emotional. It plays around with language in ways that sometimes made me pause and reread, not because it was confusing but because it felt like I had stumbled into a hidden doorway. I liked that the horror leans more toward mood and spirit than monsters. It creeps instead of jumps. Every time I thought I knew where the story was going it would slide sideways and make me rethink what I thought I understood about the characters and the land.
At times, the prose leans into its own intensity, and I found myself both loving it and wanting to come up for air. Some passages feel almost like a personal journal or a field notebook. That mix made the book feel alive. I appreciated that the author was not afraid to be weird or tender or blunt. There is humor tucked between the shadows, too. A kind of self-awareness that kept me grounded while the story tried to lift me into stranger places.
In the end, I walked away feeling stirred and a little haunted. I would recommend Bloodless We Go Buried to readers who enjoy literary horror, mythic fiction, poetic language, and stories that feel more like a dream you carry with you afterward. If you like books that make you slow down and sink in, this one might be exactly what you are looking for.
Pages: 324 | ASIN : B0F463PNKY
Auberon Manor
Paul Chandler’s Auberon Manor is a supernatural thriller that pulls you in slowly, like fog curling over the edges of a graveyard. It begins with Edison Elsher, a weary paranormal investigator whose skepticism is tested when he’s drawn into the mystery of Auberon Manor, a mansion with a long, dark reputation. Alongside Dane Ledger, a rich skeptic seeking proof that ghosts don’t exist, and a small team of experts, Edison steps into a place where logic falters and fear takes root. Chandler builds the dread steadily, layer by layer, and by the time the team realizes they’re in over their heads, it’s far too late to turn back.
I’ll admit, the writing surprised me. It’s clean, deliberate, and full of old-fashioned storytelling confidence. Chandler doesn’t rush. He lets the tension breathe. Some chapters read like a slow drip of unease, and others explode with sharp, unsettling energy. The characters feel grounded, flawed, and real. Edison’s weariness hits hard, and Dane’s arrogance cracks just when it should. The dialogue feels lived-in. People talk the way real people talk when they’re scared but trying not to show it. There’s a sense of decay throughout the book, not just in the manor itself, but in the people who come near it. That touch of melancholy made the story more than just a haunted house tale, it felt like a story about pride, guilt, and the limits of reason.
There are moments where I wanted the fear to bite sooner. But when it comes, it’s worth the wait. The haunting isn’t about gore, it’s about what you can’t quite name but can’t shake either. The book also has a throwback charm. It feels like something between The Haunting of Hill House and Poltergeist, but written with modern restraint. Chandler clearly loves the genre, and it shows in the care he takes to make the supernatural believable.
When I closed Auberon Manor, I sat for a bit, thinking about how fear works, not just in old houses, but in us. I’d recommend this one to readers who like their horror slow and thoughtful, more spine-tingling than stomach-turning. If you enjoy haunted stories that respect your intelligence and still manage to give you chills, this is your kind of book.
Pages: 231 | ASIN : B0FSYL9B2P
Literary Titan Book Award: Fiction
The Literary Titan Book Award honors books that exhibit exceptional storytelling and creativity. This award celebrates novelists who craft compelling narratives, create memorable characters, and weave stories that captivate readers. The recipients are writers who excel in their ability to blend imagination with literary skill, creating worlds that enchant and narratives that linger long after the final page is turned.
Award Recipients
Childhood’s Hour: The Lost Desert
Visit the Literary Titan Book Awards page to see award information.
LITERARY TITAN 